


Snake Fambly, Or Snambly,

by NortheasternWind



Category: Good Omens (TV)
Genre: Asexual Character, Asexual Relationship, Fluff, kidfic but with snakes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-02
Updated: 2019-09-02
Packaged: 2020-10-05 23:18:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,133
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20497004
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NortheasternWind/pseuds/NortheasternWind
Summary: Crowley shows his snake children his own snake form for the first time. Based on that fake eggs prank post from tumblr :D





	Snake Fambly, Or Snambly,

**Author's Note:**

> juts a short little thing for the snabies :D only very smol. hope u enjoy c:

There’s really no earthly, godly or satanic reason for Crowley to be afraid of his own snake form in front of his… children.

(It’s not that he doesn’t consider them his children. He does, with a tender sincerity he hadn’t known he was capable of for anyone but Aziraphale. It’s just that the word children tends to evoke the image of vaguely human-shaped young beings, and… well.)

They’re snakes, for goodness sake. Three of them look completely identical to his snake form. There is absolutely no reason for Crowley not to show them. It’s really just… him.

_Please pleeeaaaase_, they beg, looking up at him with their wide little snake eyes. _Please, Father?_

“What are they saying?” Aziraphale asks, taking off his reading glasses. “You look like I’ve just kissed you on the nose.”

The children giggle, and Crowley turns an even deeper shade of red than he already was.

“They wanna see my snake form,” he mumbles, as the children chant _love love love love love_ in their little voices, because they know it embarrasses him.

Aziraphale smiles. “Well, what are you waiting for? They ought to know what they have to look forward to, after all.”

“I’m—”

Crowley looks down at the excited, expectant noodle toddlers in his hands, then back up at Aziraphale.

“You know,” he says helplessly. “I’m not normal.”

He can turn into a Relatively Normal snake, of course. But the children will almost certainly know. There’s something of both of them in their children, and they’ll be able to tell the difference between Snake Crowley and Actual Snake Crowley.

Snake Crowley is fine, if sometimes bigger than any earthly snake should ever grow to be. Actual Snake Crowley has too many teeth, too long to fit in his mouth, hellfire blazing in his eyes and darkness oozing out from under his scales. Actual Snake Crowley is frightening, and Crowley isn’t certain he’ll survive watching his own children cower in fear of him.

Aziraphale, bless him, merely blinks. “They’re not normal either. Dear,” he goes on, quieter. “They adore you. They don’t know anything else.”

They don’t know how to be afraid, Aziraphale leaves unsaid. Even more reason to leave them ignorant, Crowley thinks, but he swallows and lowers his cupped hands to the arm of the couch.

_Snake Father?_ Anthony Jr. asks hopefully, slithering out alongside his siblings.

_Can we see? _

“Yeah, gimme a second. Uh.” Crowley coughs. “I’m kind of. Big. Just so you know.”

_Show us!_ they all cry, impatiently.

“Alright, alright. Just… let me know if you want this me back, okay?”

And with that, Crowley begins to change.

This isn’t the form he used to speak to Eve. That was more or less a normal snake form, except for the size. The lights in the bookshop flicker and dim; the seams of Crowley’s clothes melt into each other, the skin of his face splitting into white streaks. They thin and multiply, and sharpen into countless ribbonlike teeth that definitely do not belong in a snake’s mouth, and his body becomes longer and longer.

And longer.

The bookshop is much too small to contain him, but that’s part of the magic of any demonic form. Crowley grows and grows, absorbing the shadows behind the shelves and the unwelcome air that Aziraphale forces them to project, swallowing the light and warmth until the only thing left for his companions to feel is trapped.

It is not Crowley’s true form, but it is dark and vast and so much crueler than his curious children, barely the size of ping-pong balls.

He flicks his tongue out to taste the air. Ichor drips from his mouth, and though it is gone before it hits the floor he is still afraid to know that it’s there.

Aziraphale was, as always, right. There is plenty of excitement in the air, and none of it born from fear.

_Father! You’re so big!_

_ Can I see your teeth?_

_ Will I be that big someday?_

Crowley laughs—not physically, because he can’t, but from the bottom of his soul. All the tension lifts from him, and subsequently from the room. _You know, most people are afraid of me when I’m like this_, he admits.

Five shoelaces give him quizzical looks.

_You’re not scary_, Anthony Jr. says, like it’s something obvious.

_You’re soft! And nice! And beautiful!_

_Azirafather is not scared of you_, Coco points out.

_I don’t think he’s ever been afraid of me_, Crowley grumbles.

Aziraphale’s essence is currently stuffed into his favorite human form, but Crowley feels a fond featherlight touch to the side of his (not-entirely-physical) head all the same. “Never, my dear. Not even for an instant.”

_Why does Azirafather hear you and not us?_ Joshua asks, with a tinge of sadness. _We are all snakes now, but even though you cannot speak he hears you._

_I can probably teach you to make him hear_, Crowley says, causing Aziraphale to blink where he sits in his chair. _Or maybe I can teach him to listen._

Aziraphale opens his mouth, probably to protest that he does listen, but whatever he says is drowned out by the sound of five snake babies crying _teach us, teach us! We want to speak to Azirafather!_

_ Does he know we love him? _ Eve asks.

Crowley nearly answers, but at the last moment figures it would be better for Aziraphale to do so himself. _ Angel, they’re asking if you know they love you._

Aziraphale melts and even blushes, as though he hadn’t known. “Of course I do, my dears. But I would love to be able to hear it from your own little mouths, if Crowley could teach you.”

Five pairs of eyes snap back towards Crowley, who is still hanging from the ceiling like an over-sized  Halloween decoration. _Teach us, teach us, teach us, teach us!_

_Alright, I already promised to teach you, didn’t I? ...No, actually, don’t think I did. But yeah, you guys’ll be nattering away in his ear in no time._

The snakelets cheer, except for Junior, who demands:  _Come down!_

_I literally can’t,_ Crowley says.  _I’m pretty sure I’ll actually destroy the floor if I go down there._

_Touch snouts,_ Junior says impatiently, and then his siblings take up the cry.

_Touch snouts touch snouts touch snouts Father—_

_ That I can do_, Crowley says, and extends just far enough to see eye-to-eye with his children. They all slither forward as one, and begin headbutting the tip of his serpentine nose.

_Boop! _Scarlet says, repeating the affectionate noise Aziraphale makes when he bops them on the nose. Like clockwork, the others join in. _Boop, boop, boop, boop—_

Crowley giggles, and flicks his tongue out to the happy hisses of his children.  _Angel, I can’t wait for you to understand them too._


End file.
